


Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid

by gayprentiss



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Airports, And it's Christmas, Banter, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, They love each other, spencer-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28266021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayprentiss/pseuds/gayprentiss
Summary: In which Derek, Spencer, and Penelope are at the airport heading to Chicago for Christmas
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia/Spencer Reid
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98





	Merry Christmas, Spencer Reid

**Arrive at Airport - 6:47 AM**

It’s cold. Spencer Reid is certifiably a genius, and all he knows at this moment in time is that it is cold. A fog has settled over the airport drop-off zone, wet and enveloping. Spencer thinks it might be melancholy if not for the sun just  _ barely _ peeking over the horizon and Penelope’s bright pink coat bouncing around in front of him. She’s wearing enough layers that it’s difficult for her arms to move, leaving Derek and Spencer to pull their luggage from the trunk of the Uber. To compensate for her lack of involvement, she flits around the pair, pressing gentle kisses to their cheeks. 

She’s moving a little too much for Spencer’s liking. It’s still early and he’s feeling quite overwhelmed. Late minute packing, bickering, and a sugary coffee before 6 in the morning will do that to you. But he loves Penelope--oh, he loves her so much--and he’s been working through this type of sensory overload response in therapy, so instead of snapping at her to calm down and  _ please  _ stop moving, he reaches for her hand with the one that isn’t white-knuckling a heavy suitcase. 

Penelope, ever intuitive, ever loving, laces her fingers with his spindly ones and slows to a still next to him. “Oops. Sorry, lovebug,” she says, and Spencer, relaxing, kisses her flushed cheek. 

“Are you excited?” She asks him. 

Spencer nods rapidly, curls bouncing. It’s Spencer’s first Christmas spent with Derek and Penelope, his first time going to Chicago with them, and his first time meeting Derek’s family. He’s nervous, but  _ so  _ excited. Spencer watches as Derek lifts the luggage onto the curb, and finds himself wishing it wasn’t so damn cold so he could watch Derek’s muscles flex in the absence of a heavy jacket. Penelope follows Spencer’s gaze and squeezes his hand as if she can hear his thoughts and agrees. 

As if on cue, Derek thanks the Uber driver and turns to them. 

“You guys are no help,” he remarks, gesturing to the disparity between the amount of luggage each of them were carrying. Penelope pulls her empty, suitcase-free hands from Spencer’s, hiding them behind her back to playfully feign innocence. Spencer’s heart swells as he watches Derek’s smile widen and overtake his whole face. 

“Spence, you want me to take that bag?” He asks. He reaches for it, brushing against Spencer’s exposed wrist tenderly. 

Spencer beams at him. “No, you’ve got all of them. I can handle this one.” 

As they bustle into the airport, the cold air feels a bit warmer. 

**Check Bags - 7:12 AM**

“Babygirl, I hope you checked that bag’s weight twice, because I am  _ not _ paying extra for you going over the 50 pound limit again,” Derek says, looking down at Penelope where she’s perched on the edge of her suitcase. The line they’re in to check their bags hasn’t moved in a while, and once Penelope had discovered that her suitcase was sturdy enough to hold a human body despite the wonky wheel she’d broken trekking through this very airport  _ last _ Christmas, she’d been sitting on it ever since. She offered Spencer a spot next to her, of course, but he was enjoying standing with Derek. Every so often, he reaches over and pinches Spencer’s hip playfully, kissing his cheek when Spencer squirms in response. So yeah, Spencer is enjoying it. 

Penelope kicks her leg out and hooks it around Derek’s. “Oh, you love me, you’ll pay for it,” she replies, with a toothy smile up at him.

“Did you know that there was once a tiny Samoan airline that actually determined ticket prices based on the weight of their passengers, instead of weighing their luggage? Each kilogram someone weighed was 93 cents onto the price of their ticket,” Spencer says. 

“How did that work out for them?” Derek asks intently, enthralled by Spencer’s words. 

“They closed. A lot of people were really upset by the weight thing, but because it made children’s tickets cheaper than the average ticket, a lot of traveling families actually preferred that method.” 

Penelope hums, standing from her seat and wrapping her arms tightly around Derek’s waist. On instinct, he rests his hand on her lower back protectively, holding her close and pressing kisses to her forehead in quick succession. 

“Probably would be cheaper for us to fly that way,” Derek says. “Penelope’s earrings alone are about 49 pounds in there.” He gestures to her floral luggage. 

Penelope turns her head to make mock-serious, unwavering eye-contact with Spencer. “He’s mean to me,” she says matter-of-factly. 

Derek shakes his head with a chuckle. Spencer notes that his smile hasn’t left his face. He hadn’t thought it possible for Derek to be  _ any  _ happier, but apparently Penelope makes it so. Spencer knows the feeling. 

“I love you, Penelope, you know that,” Derek replies, kissing her chastely. 

(Penelope’s suitcase weighs at 29 pounds.) 

**Security - 7:44 AM**

“Hey, those are my socks!” Spencer says, looking pointedly at Penelope’s feet. 

The socks are yellow, ankle-high, and covered in rainbows. They’re  _ cute,  _ and Spencer knows they’re cute because they’re  _ his _ , a pair he’d picked up at a random general store in Des Plaines, Illinois, while on a case. He remembers sending Penelope a photo of them that night, just his socked feet next to Derek’s where they laid on the hotel’s puffy white comforter. She answered with a smattering of emojis, saying she was “So jealous!” Spencer had  _ thought _ she was referring to the quality time with Derek, but it’s apparent now as she puts her shoes into a gray bin, sliding them onto the conveyor belt, that she’d really been jealous of the socks all along. 

“If they’re your socks, why am I wearing them, loverboy?” Penelope counters in jest, back turned to both Spencer and Derek as they follow behind her through the security checkpoint. She flashes a genuine smile to the stoic TSA agent ushering her through as if to say,  _ “Boys, right?”  _

Instead of arguing, Spencer turns to Derek. “Those are my socks.” 

The TSA agent, still sporting a neutral expression and seemingly unimpressed by Penelope’s charms, calls for Spencer to move forward. He’s trying to keep up, obviously, but this morning he double-knotted his shoelaces  _ as always _ and has slight trouble getting them off quickly. Once he manages to get all of his belongings--belt, shoes, coat, and hat included--into the tray, he stumbles into the security scanner. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. The TSA agent gives him a half-smile in return, and Spencer takes the emotion and holds it close to his chest.

It’s only when Spencer and Derek finally meet Penelope at the bench she’s at, lacing up her boots, that Spencer looks down at Derek’s feet. 

“Der,” he says. 

Distracted with putting his belt back on, Derek replies absentmindedly. “Yes, baby?” 

“Those are my socks.” 

Derek looks down at his feet. Two bright pink kittens smile up at him. 

**Arrive at Gate - 8:17 AM**

Penelope passes the sweet-smelling hand sanitizer towards Spencer as they sink into the grimy, uncomfortable seats at the gate, dropping their carry-on bags. 

“‘Frosted Snowball,’” Spencer reads aloud from the glittery blue bottle. He pours a generous amount into his hand, watching earnestly as the glitter spreads across his hands and in between his fingers. Something about disinfected hands and shimmer makes him feel as awake as he’s felt all morning, although he secretly hopes Penelope will propose going to get a coffee to help him maintain the feeling. 

“Isn’t it cute? I got a few, there’s one in your stocking at home. I couldn’t leave it, look at the little polar bear!” 

Spencer passes the sanitizer to Derek, who inspects it with a raised eyebrow. 

“Why couldn’t they just call it ‘Coconut,’ if that’s the scent?” He asks, squirting a bit of the gel into his hand. “Makin’ me squint and read the fine print to find out what it actually smells like.” 

Penelope presses her lips into a faux pout. “Because ‘Frosted Snowball’ is a cuter name than--” She lowers her voice to mock Derek’s--”’Coconut.’  _ And _ , it’s festive! Winter themed!” 

Spencer pipes up. “Looks like someone isn’t getting ‘Frosted Snowball’ in their stocking this year.” He grins at Derek. 

With a shrug and a smile, Derek slings his arm around Spencer’s shoulders and pulls him to his chest, pressing his lips to Spencer’s temple and letting them linger there. Locking eyes with Penelope, Derek smiles. “C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Penelope says, patting Spencer’s thigh as she leaves his side to sit next to Derek. 

The airport bustles around them, but they stop and sit, a peaceful bubble of limbs and public displays of affection and glitter and coconut scent.

**Board Flight - 9:07AM**

“Are you feeling okay?” Derek whispers into Spencer’s ear, letting his lips brush against it. Spencer leans into his touch. Penelope is tucked into her knitting already, and she’s pulled out an extra set of needles and yarn for Spencer.

Spencer nods. 

“You’ve been quiet since we boarded,” Derek observes. 

Spencer speaks quietly. “I’m just nervous, I guess. I read an article in Psychology Today about how your partner’s parent’s approval can affect how much love and affection you feel in a relationship, and I just don’t want to mess up.” 

There’s a pregnant pause. Derek wants to quell Spencer’s fears and reassure him that everything is okay, but then Spencer is talking again, equally as hushed, but more panicked. 

“I’m also nervous because, I know your mom and sisters love Penelope, and I’m...I’m new.” 

Derek frowns. His palm finds a spot on Spencer’s chest, right over his heart. Derek knows the weight and warmth of his hand will stabilize Spencer, regulating his breathing, and preventing any anxiety attacks from blooming. Grateful for the touch, Spencer continues. 

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that we’re  _ together  _ and that it’s weird that I’m a  _ man  _ and that I’m  _ awkward  _ and  _ gangly  _ and I’m not good with social situations and sometimes I say the wrong things at the wrong time and...yeah.” He stops himself from continuing, noticing how he’s working himself into a frenzy. Derek smiles a tiny half-smile, and Spencer returns it in acknowledgement. 

Penelope, having overheard bits of the conversation, pulls Spencer’s right hand to her lips and kisses his knuckles softly as a reminder of her presence, then turns back to the new scarf she’s making. It’s in a deep mauve, close to Spencer’s favorite shade of purple. (She hasn’t decided if she’s going to give it to him yet. On one hand, it  _ is  _ his color, and he wears scarves more than she does; but on the other hand, _ because _ it’s his color, whenever she wears it it would be a reminder of him. She’s torn.)

Derek tucks a piece of Spencer’s hair back behind his ear. 

“Let me ask you something,” he says. “Do  _ you _ think it’s weird that we’re together?”

“No,” Spencer replies.

“Do _ you _ think it’s weird that you’re a man?” 

“No.” 

“So,” Derek shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “If my family feels some type of way about it, that’s their own issue to get over.”

Spencer nods, letting his eyes search Derek’s.

Derek kisses his forehead. “But, I would never intentionally put you into a situation where I know you would be uncomfortable or unwelcome. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.” 

Spencer nods, again. He knows. Derek  _ always _ protects him. He taps Derek’s hand where it lies on his sternum as an example. 

Derek nods, then plants a firm, wet kiss on Spencer’s pouted lips. “So trust me when I tell you it’s all going to be okay, okay?” 

“Okay,” Spencer says, and he means it. 

Derek pats his chest lovingly and moves to put in his headphones. He’ll catch up on his sport podcasts, but in approximately 23 minutes, he’ll feel bad about having headphones in and offer one to Spencer. Spencer eagerly awaits this interaction, although he’ll decline, waiting for Penelope to get bored with her knitting. Then, the two of them will watch some campy 90’s movie together, and share the peanut M&Ms he snuck into his coat pocket to surprise her with. 

But for now, Spencer takes Penelope’s extra set of knitting needles, laying them across his lap. Content in where he’s at, he smiles and folds up his itinerary. 

  
  



End file.
